


When it All Comes Crashing Down

by The_Jashinist



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Canon Disabled Character, Disabled Character, Gen, Heavy Angst, Past Torture, i'm a monster, pulling an oracle here, y'all're gonna kill me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jashinist/pseuds/The_Jashinist
Summary: He was missing for two weeks, and no one knew, and unfortunately, he ended up being the one to pay the price.





	1. Chapter 1

“You need to get over here.”

Bruce flinched at the sound of Jason’s voice, it sounded urgent, but part of Bruce assumed he’d gotten into another fight and could easily just call someone else.

“Call Nightwing I’m busy,” he said.

“Not that busy,” Jason replied, “and call Gordon too.  Tell him to get paramedics down here, but I want you to be here first.  You need to see this.”

That didn’t sound good.

“I’ll be right there,” Bruce promised and a blip appeared on his GPS.

“I’m here,” Jason clarified, then hung up.  The blip was over an abandoned warehouse, one Bruce knew belonged to a certain clown.  He sighed and made his way to the address, along the way, he called Gordon.

“Red Hood just called me to one of Joker’s old warehouses,” Bruce said as soon as Gordon answered, “he didn’t say why but he said we’d need paramedics.”

“That doesn’t sound good.  Which warehouse?”

“The one on 23rd Street.”

“Got it, I’m coming too.”

“No.”

“Batman.  This is Joker we’re talking about; I’m coming too.”

Bruce sighed, he was already at the warehouse and didn’t have time to argue.

“Fine, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Gordon hung up without another word and Bruce got out of the Batmobile, climbing through a clearly forced open window, no doubt Jason’s doing.

The young man in question was leaning on a stack of crates, arms crossed.

“For the record, I already called Dick,” Jason commented bitterly, “this way, and you might want to steel yourself, it isn’t pretty.”

Jason turned and led Bruce through a maze of crates before coming upon a space in the crates where it was clear someone had, at one point, been shackled to the floor, and from the blood everywhere, whoever it was, wasn’t in good condition.  Dick was leaning against a stack of boxes, cradling someone barely conscious.  Several people, all victims of Joker, flashed through Bruce’s mind, but this was different.  He hadn’t known this person was missing, and the fact that he was still dressed in his Arkham uniform told Bruce that he wasn’t supposed to.

“Dr. Crane,” he said in a low voice, the man’s eyes flickered slightly at the sound of his name.  He was mostly recognizable, despite several cuts and bruises, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in bad shape, his tormentor had just been intent on making sure his face was mostly untouched.

“We’ve tried moving him,” Jason commented, “but he can’t walk.”

Bruce glanced down at Crane’s legs, which looked like they were forcibly bent forward at angles that looked grotesquely painful.  Bruce felt a heavy pit in his stomach, a burning fury to the point where he didn’t care about the tears he clearly felt running down his cheeks.  Bruce hadn’t known about this, and it looked to him like what could’ve been done was no longer an option.

“Bruce?” Dick whispered in a low voice.

“Go find Joker,” Bruce ordered Jason, “Nightwing, go outside, bring Gordon in when he gets here.”

Dick looked uncertain, but handed Crane off to Bruce and hurried to the entrance of the warehouse as Jason left through the open window.

“We brought help,” Bruce said in a low voice.  Crane nodded slowly, wincing as the movement seemed to cause pain.  Bruce gritted his teeth.

He hadn’t known, not a thing.  This was his fault.

“Oh god,” Gordon’s voice at the edge of the square brought Bruce’s attention towards the commissioner.  Gordon’s face had a look about it that told Bruce that this was all taking him back to something he didn’t want to remember, and frankly neither did Bruce.

“He’s still alive,” Bruce promised, picking up Crane gingerly and standing, “but we need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible.”

Gordon swallowed and nodded, following Bruce out of the warehouse, from Bruce’s periphery, he could see that Gordon was shaking, whether from anger, horror, shock, or some mixture of the three.  Bruce did his best to ignore the mutterings from officers and paramedics alike.  These people had seen Joker’s victims before, but these victims seldom came out of their torment alive, and those that did were never really this bad.  Bruce had the feeling Crane was only conscious from sheer force of will, and only alive because Joker wanted him to be.  Bruce passed Crane off to some paramedics, a few of which exchanged worried looks while loading Crane into the ambulance.

“Commissioner,” one of the paramedics hurried from the ambulance, holding out a blanket to Gordon, who took it, “his legs...”

“What about them?” Gordon asked.

“They’ve been broken at the knees and in several other places,” the paramedic paused and glanced back at Crane being loaded into the ambulance, “and his kneecaps are shattered.  If the injuries were recent, there might’ve been a chance for him to walk with mild trouble, but as it stands...”  the paramedic trailed off.

“He’s never going to walk again,” Gordon finished, “is he?”

“Probably not,” the paramedic nodded, “the damage is too extensive.”

Gordon exhaled slowly and turned to one of the officers, “Go to Arkham and tell them we’ve found Dr. Jonathan Crane and we need his psychiatrist, Jervis Tetch, and Edward Nygma at Gotham Central Hospital as soon as possible.  Miss?”

The paramedic tensed up.

“Thank you for telling me now.”

The paramedic nodded.

“Of course, commissioner.”

Gordon turned to where Bruce had been moments before, but Bruce had already moved to a rooftop nearby.

“Well?” Dick asked, standing beside Jason.

“I couldn’t find him,” Jason commented.

“It’s fine,” Bruce nodded, “he’s alive, that’s what’s important.”

“But is he alright?” Dick asked.

“That depends on him,” Bruce replied, “but if you mean is he going to be the same as before this, no.  Crane’s legs are beyond repair.”

Jason let out a harsh swear and Dick’s hands immediately rose to cover his mouth.

“Does Barbara know?” Dick asked.

“Not yet,” Bruce continued to where he’d left the Batmobile, “but I don’t doubt that Gordon’s going to tell her.  We need to find Joker.”

“You do,” Jason corrected, “maybe Dick and I should stay with Crane.”

Bruce stopped and turned to Jason.

“If that’s what you want to do,” Bruce gave a curt nod, “but that’s not what I’m going to do.  Call me with updates.”

Jason and Dick nodded in unison and Bruce returned to the Batmobile.

This was not the kind of evening he had in mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Edward leaned on the side of the police cruiser, glancing at Leland beside him.  The police had only told her what this was about, and she’d been fidgeting nervous during the entire drive.  There was no indication as to where they were going, so Edward had a very bad feeling the second he saw Gotham Central Hospital come into view.  Of course, this might’ve been something as simple as a questioning, but usually the police went to Arkham, they didn’t bring the inmates to them.

“What’s going on?” Jervis asked, sounding utterly terrified.

“It’s better if you see first,” the officer exited and Edward was pulled from the cruiser and led into the hospital.

“It’s something about Jon,” Jervis muttered under his breath, “something happened.”  Edward ignored this and hoped Jervis was wrong.  Jervis had to be wrong.  Jonathan was fine, he was just hiding out somewhere to get the cops off his back and he’d be back to his old tricks as usual.

Edward began gnawing on his lip, a nervous habit he’d been largely certain he’d gotten rid of, but something deep in his gut told him Jervis was absolutely right.  He wasn’t about to say that though, Jervis would get worked up and then there’d be no talking him off the ceiling.  Jonathan was the one who talked Jervis off the ceiling.

The officers led the three into the hospital and into ICU, at which point Edward noticed a high number of police officers, more than would be usual were a rogue simply in the hospital for any reason.  There was also the fact that Nightwing and Red Hood were there.  Jervis was wringing his hands in a mild panic at the sight of it all.

“How is he?” Leland darted forwards at the sight of Commissioner Gordon.

“Stable,” Gordon replied, “and they managed to set his legs, but that’s the most they can manage.  He’s barely conscious, but I’m amazed he’s even that.”

Edward heard a thud behind him and glanced over to see that Jervis had fainted.  Gordon turned his attention to Edward, and gestured for him to approach.

“When was the last time you saw Dr. Crane?” he asked.

“About two weeks ago,” Edward frowned, “what’s going on?”

“God he’s resilient,” Gordon muttered, opening a hospital door, “Red Hood found him in one of Joker’s warehouses this evening, and I’d suggest you prepare yourself now.”

Edward stepped into the room and almost immediately had to steady himself against a wall and clap a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out.  Jonathan was the only occupant of the room, hooked up to several monitors with casts on both legs.  He was covered in bruises and cuts on the visible parts of his skin, and Edward suspected the injuries were on covered parts of his skin too.

“Oh my god,” Leland muttered under her breath, “you never said it was this bad!”

“We didn’t want to concern anyone; he was in critical condition when we brought him in.”

“How long were his legs broken?” Edward asked in a low voice.

“Doctors are guessing from the outset,” Gordon replied, “but they were rebroken several times since the first break.  We’re not sure how they were broken, the warehouse is still being combed, but...”  Edward glanced back at Gordon and noticed that the commissioner wasn’t looking directly at Jonathan and his hands were shaking.  Edward turned and placed his hands over Gordon’s, and the commissioner exhaled slowly, muttering a quiet thank you.

“It’s sickening,” Leland scowled, backing away from the room, “Gordon are you alright?  Considering how Barbara-”

“It’s fine,” Gordon insisted sharply, withdrawing his hands from Edward’s grasp, “I can’t let that personal experience interfere, even with this, but no, I’m not alright.  This is far from alright.”

Jervis let out a loud cry from behind Edward and Edward turned to see him hiding his face in his hands.  Under his breath, Jervis was muttering nursery rhymes to calm himself.

“We’re planning to keep you with him,” Gordon added, “At least until he’s conscious enough to speak.”

Edward nodded.

“Thank you.  Do you mind if I stay in here?”

“You won’t be able to stay for more than an hour, but go ahead.”

Gordon closed the door to the room and Edward turned to Jonathan, noticing that Jonathan’s eyes were half open, and looking at him.  Edward pulled up a chair and sat next to Jonathan.

“Hey,” he forced a smile.  Jonathan slowly shut his eyes and sighed slowly.

“I keep hearing him laugh,” Jonathan croaked.

Edward flinched and carefully took Jonathan’s hand, holding it lightly.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Edward muttered, “I swear.”

Jonathan didn’t reply, but slowly closed his hand around Edward’s, tears were streaming down his face.

“My legs hurt,” he whispered in a shaky voice, “they hurt so badly.”

Edward bit back tears and nodded.  With his free hand, he brushed back Jonathan’s dark hair and carefully wiped tears from his face.

“I know Jon,” he whispered, “I know.  It’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine.”

He was lying of course, just listening to how Gordon and Leland were talking told him that at the very least, Jonathan would be limping for the rest of his life.

Jonathan leaned his forehead into Edward’s hand, reopening his eyes.  From the look on his face, he could already tell that Edward wasn’t telling the truth, maybe it was the pain in his legs or what he’d been through in the past two weeks that told him that he wasn’t going to be right back to normal.

“Where’s Jervis?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Outside.  With Leland.  You know how he can get.”

“Okay.”

Jonathan’s eyelids flickered slightly, as if he was dozing off slowly.

“Go to sleep,” Edward whispered in a low voice, “you need your rest Jon.”

Jonathan slowly closed his eyes, his forehead leaning on Edward’s hand.  Edward edged his hand out slowly, so as to not wake Jonathan, and made for the door.

For a moment, he turned back to Jonathan and gritted his teeth.

Somehow, in some way, the Joker was going to pay for this, and Edward would make damn sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, even when I don't have it explicit I still have Scriddler innuendo, fuck me sideways.
> 
> Listen I'm spoiling y'all with chapter updates in the span of two days. I'd update Lifewater but that one actually has a beta reader.
> 
> Also I'm rewriting huge chunks of it.
> 
> ALSO THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO COMMENTED YOU'RE ALL MAGICAL HUMAN BEINGS.


	3. Chapter 3

Barbara exhaled slowly as the nurse opened the door and wheeled her way into the room.  Crane glanced at her as she entered and flashed a benign smile, but the expression was bittersweet.  He was certainly happy to see her, but the wheelchair she was sitting in wasn’t a comforting reminder of the legs that now lay useless in front of him.  Barbara didn’t blame him, but part of her was a little terrified to talk to Crane.  The past few days had sent Bruce and Barbara’s father through the event that had landed her in a wheelchair, and the fact that it had happened again without anyone even knowing the victim was missing just seemed to pour salt on the reopened wounds.

“Adjusting?” Barbara asked.

“Mildly,” Crane shrugged, “how are you?”

“Better off than my dad and Batman, that’s for sure,” Barbara wheeled up to sit beside Crane, “what about you?  Nygma said you were having nightmares.”

Crane’s gaze drifted across to rest at his legs.

“He snapped my legs backwards.”

Barbara felt a lump form in her throat.

“What?”

Crane looked at Barbara, a mixture of despair and fury in his eyes.

“I knew from the first day that I was never going to walk away from that hell, whether I lived or died.  He didn’t want me running a way, so he tied me up and slowly snapped my legs backwards.  And every three days, he did it again.”

Barbara wheeled forwards and placed a hand over Crane’s, which had curled into a fist and was shaking.

“I never did anything,” he whispered, his voice trembling with each word, “I was...I was afraid.  Afraid to fight back or cry for help.  Afraid of what he’d do if I did.”

“I understand,” Barbara said, speaking softly, memories and emotions of her own experience, so carefully locked away, came flooding back.  This was cruel, it was unnecessary, it was without any reason or purpose.  Joker had simply tortured and crippled a man because he could do it, and because no one was going to notice or stop him this time.

Crane let out a soft laugh, “You make this seem so easy.”

“I try not to think about what happened,” Barbara admitted, “it’s easier that way.”

“That isn’t how it should be,” Crane replied, “I shouldn’t have to simply forget what happened, I-I’m not actually sure I can put it out of my mind at all.”

“It takes time.”

“Even after time, nothing’s really the same, is it Batgirl?”

Barbara retracted her hand and Crane let out a slow sigh.

“He mentioned it, at some point.  I didn’t want to say anything to your dad, or Batman, for that matter.”

Barbara looked down at her legs, she clearly recalled the last time they’d moved like they were supposed to, such a thing, that moment of terror and shock before a bullet ripped through her torso.  It was the kind of thing you remembered.

“My dad never found out,” Barbara admitted, “I never actually told him.  Think Scarecrow’s gone the way of the Batgirl?”

“I’ve had more than enough suffering for the rest of my lifetime,” Crane nodded, “how’s the Bat?  He hasn’t come by but I see at least one of his assorted children on occasion.”

“He’s...” Barbara searched for the right words.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Crane commented, “He couldn’t have known about this.  I’m not known for being very public after breaking out of Arkham.”

Barbara nodded, “He still blames himself.”

“Can you manage to get him to talk to me?” Crane asked.

“I can try but I don’t know if he will,” Barbara shrugged, “it took him a long time to see me in the hospital.”

Crane nodded in understanding, and leaned back.

“Have you talked to Leland?” Barbara asked.

“A bit,” Crane answered, “she’s working with the police to find Joker, so she’s been trying to skim through everything to figure out any leads.”

“Not much progress?” Barbara guessed.

“No, not much,” Crane shook his head, “it’s-it’s hard to talk about it.  I want to help, I want to catch Joker, I just-I can’t.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to.”

Crane was shaking, and his eyes were looking a little glassy.

“Look,” Barbara began to wheel back, “you need to rest, and get your bearings.”

“Stay.”

Barbara froze, Crane’s voice had taken a pitch she didn’t recognize, and maneuvered herself forwards again.

“What’s wrong?”

Without a word, Crane held out a violently shaking hand, his other hand clutching his side and his breaths becoming labored.  Barbara took Crane’s hand and held it as tightly as she could.  She knew the signs, and she could try to ground Crane in the present as best she could.

“You’re here,” she said firmly, “Crane listen to me, listen to my voice.”

Crane yelped and his grip tightened around Barbara’s hand.  Tears began falling from his eyes.

“Jonathan!” Barbara raised her voice, “Listen to my voice, focus on that, ignore everything else.”

Crane doubled over, sobbing and gasping for breath.

“I hate this,” he muttered under his breath, “I shouldn’t be angry at myself but I am.  I keep thinking that I should’ve yelled or fought back or tried to get away but I was just so scared.”

Barbara nodded.

“When I was in the hospital, after Joker shot me, I kept going through hundreds of ways I could’ve done things differently.  I could’ve acted quickly and saved myself, and my father, from everything we went through, but I never did any of that.  I was afraid.”

Crane turned his head to look at Barbara.

“We can’t change what happened, and I’m not going to tell you that you’re wrong for feeling the way you do.  You went through a lot more than I did and I felt that way for a long time.  A part of me still feels that way, but nothing, no regrets or cries of ‘if only I had done something’ are going to change what happened or what we went through.”

Crane nodded and smiled slightly.

“Thank you, Barbara.”

“You’re welcome, Dr. Crane.”

“Jon.”

“Hm?”

“Call me Jon.”

“Alright, Jon then.”

Crane smiled and for a moment, Barbara felt certain that no matter what, things were going to get better for Crane.

No matter how slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey do you guys need to cry?
> 
> No?????
> 
> Too bad.

**Author's Note:**

> THE ANGST TRAIN IS LEAVING THE STATION.


End file.
